Christmas Secrets: Victoria's and others
by writermarie
Summary: Christmas Fluff time! Abbey catches Jed in the act again--or does she?


Title: Christmas Secrets (Victoria's and Others…)  
Author: Marie E. Rossiter (writermarie2002@yahoo.com)  
Pairing: Jed/Abbey  
Genre: Christmas Fluff  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine…oh, but if they were….  
Notes: To Jessie—who worked on this with me in the early stages—  
you're always a great inspiration to me. Thanks for keeping me full   
of ideas and energy. To Jon—Who puts up with this fascination of   
mine of another couple besides the two of us—baby, I see a lot of you   
in Jed…;)  
Summary: Total fluff for the holidays….Abbey catches Jed in   
the act again—or does she  
  
I feel him get out of the bed, despite his best efforts to sneak   
away. 

  
He does this every year.

  
I open one eye and get a fuzzy look at the alarm clock next   
to us. It's almost 6:30 in the morning. He's not a morning person   
whatsoever. But, once a year, he manages to drag his butt out of the   
bed voluntarily before dawn, merely to satisfy his overactive and   
merciless curiosity. 

  
A six-year-old boy trapped in a sixty-year old man's body.   
What a pity that modern medicine hasn't found the cure for this   
common ailment.

  
He tiptoes around the room, opening dresser drawers and   
closet doors as quietly as possible. He's persistent. I'll give him   
that.

  
"You won't find them, Jed."

  
Jed spins around, obviously startled at my declaration.  
"What? I'm not looking for them," he defends. 

  
Holding the covers up around me—New Hampshire gets cold   
around the holidays—I reach over to turn the small table lamp on.

  
"Don't do that!" he exclaims.

  
Mm hmm…This means I've caught him.   
"Why not, Sugarplum?" 

  
He hesitates before answering. "It's too early to turn the   
lights on." A man with a Nobel prize…his reasoning is mind blowing.

  
Still, I give in and leave the lamp off. "Right. Do you   
know what time it is?"

  
"Um…early?" he replies like a child.

  
"It's barely six thirty. And what did you think, you'd be   
able to sneak out of bed so you could go snooping for your   
presents?" If he's going to sound like a child, I might as well do   
my best impression of a mildly annoyed mother.

  
My eyes have adjusted to the fading darkness of the room and   
I can just make out Jed folding his arms in front of him. His turn   
for irritation, I guess. "How do you know I was snooping for my   
presents?"

  
Two can play at this game, so I fold my arms in front of   
me. "How long have we been married?" I fire back.

  
A split second races past and Jed responds, "A very, very   
long time?" he replies as a question. He's mocking me. If he   
weren't so damn cute, I'd kill him.

  
I reach behind me and grab the pillow behind my head and   
launch it at him. "A long time?" I echo. "How about being a little   
more specific there, pal?"

  
Unfortunately for me, Jed's reflexes are still pretty sharp   
and he catches the fluffy projectile. He holds onto it briefly and   
then tosses it back at me. "Thirty two years, dear."

  
"That's better," I admonish. "And after such a long time, I   
know you well enough to know that you are worse than any of our three   
daughters ever were at Christmas."

  
"For your information, Madam Grinch, I wasn't getting up to   
snoop for my presents." Now he's getting haughty on my ass. I   
suppress my desire to smile at him. Lord knows the man doesn't need   
encouragement.

  
"Oh really?" I challenge. "And just what exactly were you   
doing looking around the room like James Bond or something?"

  
Jed choked a little. "James Bond? And who is doing the   
spying here in this room? You were the one watching me on the sly."

  
I shake my head. "Don't even try changing the subject, Mr.   
President. So, if you weren't looking for your gifts? What were you   
doing?"

  
"If you must know, I was looking for your gift."

  
My gift? Ok, I don't want to appear too eager. So, I decide   
defense is a good offense at this time. "You lost my gift?"

  
"I did not! I just…misplaced it."

  
"Oh, for God's sake, Jed!" I say with an exasperated sigh.   
Take a breath, Abbey. "You actually got me a gift?" I tease. This   
should send him about over the edge.

  
"Abigail Bartlet, I get you at least one gift every year!"   
Yes. He's not a happy camper now.

  
"I just figured with the election and the preparations for   
the inauguration….it might have slipped your mind."

  
The light from the rising sun in the window is starting to   
cast a subtle pink and yellow glow in the room. Although the beams   
of light are faint, I can see Jed is hurt by this remark.

  
"I don't forget things like this, Abbey," he informs me   
seriously. "Not ever." He pauses and then continues. "At least,   
not yet" he throws in for good measure.

  
Damn. That wasn't what I meant.

  
"Jed…"

  
"I bought the gift weeks ago and Charlie was going to have it   
wrapped for me. But, I said, no. Because I wanted to take the time   
to wrap it for you."

  
Wonderful. I needed a good dose of guilt on Christmas   
morning. One thing I've learned over the past thirty plus years with   
Jed is that I am not wrong very often. However, when I am, it's a   
doozy.

  
"Now," he proceeds, "I can't find the damn thing and yes, it   
bothers the hell out of me that I can't find it."

  
"Jed…" I attempt a second time.

  
He turns and starts looking around again. "It was a nice   
present, too," he mutters angrily.

"Jed!" This time I have a little more oomph behind my voice.

  
"What?"

  
I rise out of the bed and go to him. "I'm sorry," I say   
softly, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

  
"It's ok," he whispers. 

  
I rest my head on his shoulders. "No, I mean it. I'm sorry."

  
"I know." He looks over his shoulder at me. "You don't   
usually apologize so easily," he says. "Is that supposed to be my   
gift?" He's smiling now.

  
So much for the guilt—he's back to being a jackass. I smack   
him lightly on the shoulder. "No. You got a lump of coal!" 

  
"Oh, so I'm a bad boy, then?"

  
"Yes," I answer. 

  
He reaches under my nightshirt, making his best efforts at a   
grope. "Well, if I'm a bad boy reputation, maybe my actions should   
live up to my name…" he murmurs.

  
But, I'm a little quick for him and take a step back, just   
before he reaches too high up on my bare inner thigh. "I don't think   
so," I advise. "So, can I help you find my gift?" I continue.   
Didn't that sound casual?

  
"Nice try, Flannel Queen," Jed snaps back, rolling his eyes. 

  
I turn around in place. "What, you don't like my choice of   
bed wear?"

  
Jed frowned slightly. "You get all of these catalogues. I   
know because I look through them when I'm in the bathroom, so don't   
think I don't know, Abigail. Victoria's Secret. Frederick's of   
Hollywood. Now that's bed wear…"

  
"Ahh," I interject, still maintaining my stoic stance. "So   
that's why you take so long in the bathroom? You've been looking at   
my catalogues. And here I thought I just needed to give you a   
laxative." 

  
"As I was saying," Jed continued, almost oblivious to my   
ribbing, "You have books full of naughty negligees to tease a man,   
and yet you choose LL. Bean?"

  
I run my hands over the red flannel nightshirt. "It's soft.   
And if you took more than a second to think of the breasts and other   
things beneath it, you'd appreciate that."

  
The mere mention of my breasts causes him to twinge. I love   
watching it happen. It's a guilty pleasure.

  
"Besides," I press on, "you complain half the time that the   
things I wear are too itchy."

  
"No, dear, that's your complaint," he corrects me.

  
I scratch the back of neck at the thought. "Ok…well…yeah."

  
"I don't usually allow you wear those things long enough to   
notice something like that," he says, his mouth twitching.

  
"See, so it's a waste of money!" I state triumphantly. God,   
I love being right. And when I'm not even sure I'm right, I look   
confident, hoping that will be enough to end the battle.

  
Jed shrugs. "Ok."

  
Battle won.

  
I start back toward the bed. "Jed, it's one of the few days   
of the year where we don't have to get up at the crack of dawn. Why   
are you even up?"

  
"I want to wrap your present."

  
"You don't even know where it is," I sigh and climb back into   
bed. I pull up my nightshirt just slightly—barely enough to reveal   
the upper portion of my thigh. Well, I'm not going to just lay it   
all out and make it easy for him, you know.

  
Jed either doesn't notice or is doing a damn good job of   
ignoring my subtle signal. "I need to find it."

  
"Call Charlie. Maybe he put it someplace," I say through a   
yawn.

  
"No, no, no," he insists. "I'll find it." He stands in the   
middle of the room and after about ten seconds, apparently decides to   
give up.

  
"You going to stand there all morning or are you going to get   
back in bed with me?"

  
"I guess I'll get back in bed." Ohh that sounded so   
enthusiastic.

  
I slide over back to my side and allow him in. "Don't sound   
so excited, Jed. I know you've had worse offers than this."  
He says nothing as he slips back into bed. Finally, his eyes   
notice my exposed flesh.

  
"Thought you said it was cold up here in New Hampshire," he   
says with one eyebrow raised.

  
"It is cold." I concur.

  
"Then why are you flashing me your thigh, Mrs. Bartlet?"

  
I look down at my thigh and then back up at my husband. "I   
don't know. Brain freeze?" I plea innocently.

  
"Hey, whatever it is. Works for me."

  
My husband, the Casanova of New England…

  
But you see, he knows this hard to get act gets to me,   
because I can't resist a challenge. How fair is that?

  
"Yeah, I can tell," I mutter as I pull up my nightshirt to my   
waist.

  
I think I have a little more attention from him now.

  
"Oh…well…yeah, it's working for me," he replies, his voice   
more of a groan now than anything else.

  
I decide to play a little longer with him. "So, you look at   
my catalogues?"

  
"Huh?" This totally throws him.

  
I start to rub my leg a little as I lock my eyes with   
him. "You said you look at my catalogues before…"

  
"Oh, well, yeah…" He clears his throat as he stares at   
me. "They don't make flannel panties, I see."

  
"Nope," I answer lightly. My hand absently runs up and down   
my leg. His eyes follow my every move. It's an intricate dance   
between the two of us, and we've barely gotten started.

  
"Look like no panties came with that shirt at all, actually,"   
Jed continues.

  
"Nope," I repeat.

  
Jed nods. "What a shame."

  
"Yeah, I know."

  
He scoots over and places his hand slowly on my thigh, on top   
of my hand. I stop the movement as I feel his skin touch mine.   
Neither one of us move. We are caught in the moment and neither one   
of us seems ready to give it up just yet. As Jed said before: works   
for me.

  
"I wasn't sure we'd make it up here," I whisper.

  
"I would never let Christmas go by without coming home,   
Abbey," he tells me sincerely. "I'd come home every holiday if we   
could."

  
I nod silently.

  
"Hell, the only major holiday we've missed, really, was last   
Thanksgiving—when you told Bruno and everyone else but me that we   
shouldn't come here."

  
Oh no, not this again. He was pretty pissed about that:   
more that I even thought he would be.

  
"I know…"

  
Jed's hand squeezed mine. "We don't have to listen to polls   
anymore," he said wistfully.

  
"Bull," I retort with a half chuckle and try to pull my hand   
away. But, Jed's not having any of that. He holds on as if it is   
for dear life.

  
"I'm serious as a heart attack, Abbey." His eyes are steely   
and determination is set in his jaw.

  


"Polls are still important," I reply with a shallow   
exhale. "They dictate policy, even if you never run for an office   
again."

  
Jed's eyes won't let mine go. "They may help to dictate   
policy still, but never—ever—will they dictate my personal life. No   
more."

  
I'm blinking furiously. This has caught me off guard.

  
"Yes, there's lots of work to do with these last four years,   
but the most important thing in my life is you and the girls. And   
the girls don't want to hang around their dear old Dad that much, so   
I guess you're pretty much stuck with me." Now he's looking downward   
and blushing. "I haven't really shown the depth of my feelings very   
much over the past four years."

  
I'm still speechless.

  
He lifts my hand off of my thigh and holds it tenderly   
between his own two hands. "You are the best gift a man could ask   
for, Abbey. I love you."

  
Ok, I'm still speechless. Damn. This never happens.

  
"Abbey?" his voice jolts me from my whirring mind. "You're   
speechless? Wow. That never happens."

  
He has this uncanny ability, at times, to read my mind. It's   
more times than I would ever admit to, though.

  
I wonder if he knows what I'm thinking right now…  
A sneer spreads across his face: the one that I have etched   
into my psyche.

  
"Oh, yes, Abbey, I plan on giving you that, too," he snarls   
as he starts to lean over me and I wait to feel his lips on mine.  
He misses, though, by a mile as he reaches beyond me and   
under the bed…

  
I reach for his other arm and try to pull him back, "Hey,   
gumdrop, you overshot your mark just a tad and while I admire your   
eagerness and effort…"

  
He sits up on the bed and holds out a gift-wrapped   
box. "Hmm, look what I found."

  
As my head hits the pillow when I fall backward, I feel like   
a world-class heel. 

  
I prop myself up with my hands. "I've been played?" I hear   
myself question slowly.

  
Jed leans in a little closer and brushes his lips against my   
ear "Like a fine violin, darling. And, I can't wait to pluck your   
strings in a few minutes. But, first, open this, ok?"  
I take the package in my hands and just stare at him.

  
"Well, come on, before my second term runs out," he presses.  
I tear open the paper and open the box. As soon as I pull   
the tissue back, I laugh.

  
Jed's face radiates a lovely shade of pink. "Well, when I   
saw it, I thought of you. But, you'll notice that it is fine silk,   
so no worries about itching…"

  
I smile wide and lift it out of the box. The sapphire blue   
teddy matches the blue in his eyes, especially when they are   
twinkling, like they are right now.

  
I jump out of bed with the garment in my hands. With one   
hand I lift off the red flannel and stand beside the bed.

  
"Whoa, what are you doing?" Jed asks me.

  
I look over my shoulder and grin. "Trying this little   
garment on…"

  
"Wait," Jed tells me and stands up. 

  
"Why?" I figured he'd want to see this on me.

  
He walks up behind me. "You missed something."

  
"Huh?"

  
His hands go over my shoulders and slide something around my   
neck.

  
"Jed? What the??"

  
"Uh uh uh, Abigail. Watch that mouth of yours. It is   
Christmas."

  
He directs me to the mirror over the mantle of our bedroom's   
fireplace. Around my neck hangs an octagonal stone that matches the   
color of the negligee. Surrounding the large sapphire are eight   
shimmering diamonds that twinkle in the new sunlight like stars.

  
"Jed…my God…where did you? How did you??"

  
He gazed at my reflection in the mirror as he continued to   
look over my shoulder. "Oh, it's no big deal. I had one of the   
agents lift it from the National Archives."

I spin around. "What?" 

  
And there's that grin that melts my heart, my knees and   
everything else in and on my body. "Just kidding, darling."

  
We walk toward each other and he pulls me into his   
arms. "Merry Christmas, Abbey." He starts planting tiny kisses all   
over my face, neck and shoulders.

  
"Merry Christmas, Jed," I manage to get out. 

  
As he leads me to the bed, I put my hand between us.

  
"What is it?" he asks, concerned at my abrupt stop.

  
"What about the garment?" I ask. "Don't you want me to model   
it for you?"

  
My husband takes a step back and looks me up and down. "I   
think it looks wonderful on you. As for the garment…well…you can try   
that on later. But, I'll just rip it off of you…"

  
"So, why did you buy it?" I marvel.

  
"Because after looking at those damn catalogues, I knew that   
it would look better on you, even if for only ten seconds, than on any   
of those so-called women."

  
I can't help but laugh and I pull him on top of my as I lay   
back on the bed. "Come here."

  
"Is this where I get to pluck your strings?" he asks eagerly.

  
"Oh yes," I whisper. 

"All right," he replies. "But, I was just wondering…"

  
Oh, God…what now? "Yes?" I ask sweetly as I begin to lick   
the base of his neck.

  
"Since you got your present, don't I get mine?" His face is   
the appearance of innocence.

"Oh, you'll get yours, Mr. President," I assure him   
confidently. "Believe me, you'll get yours." 

  
I pull him down on top of me and close my eyes as I feel him   
nuzzle up against me.

  
I don't think I'll ever look at those catalogues in the same   
way again….  
  
END  
  



End file.
